Her blue eyes are sparkling with dangerous ideas. “Oh my gosh. Amelia is right. You are perfect for the job.”
I stare incredulously at her. “Were you even listening just now?”
“Yes, and I heard a man who’s very qualified to be a dating coach.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not. I’m not doing it.”
“But what if I promise I won’t fall in love with you?” she says as if that’s a flattering option. “You’re not the kind of guy I’m looking for anyway.”
“Wow. I feel great now. Thank you.”
“Come on, Will! It’s perfect.”
“Annie…” Instinctively I take a step back, but she follows. I’ve never felt hunted more than I do at this moment. I wish I couldn’t say I don’t like it.
“Wildon, please be my tutor.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh while skirting around her. A minute ago I was the one holding all the power, and somehow she flipped the script and has me crossing to the complete opposite side of the shop to escape her. “Why do you need a tutor so badly?”
“Because I’d really like to get married before I’m eighty, and my last date was a disaster.”
“It couldn’t have been a disaster.”
“A disaster,” she repeats firmly, with eyes wide open. “Remember how he left at the beginning of the date? Before that I overheard him on the phone tell his friend that I was unbelievably boring. Too dull to hook up with.”
Rage swiftly and furiously sweeps over me. “What a dick. Tell me his name. I’m going to—”
“He didn’t mean for me to overhear it,” Annie says, sticking up for a man who doesn’t deserve it. “And the fact is, he wasn’t wrong. I thought back on the date, and…I really was boring. I couldn’t think of anything to talk about. I need help learning how to be fun on dates.”
But as I look at Annie’s flushed face and sparkling eyes, her words still don’t sit right. She shouldn’t have to change herself.
I lean closer. “If any jackass thinks you’re boring, that’s his problem, not yours.”
She looks away. “You only say that because you’ve never been called boring, or dull, or wholesome. One look at you and everyone knows you’re the antithesis of those words. But me—I need some help or I’m never going to find someone. I need a coach.”
The longer I stare at Annie, the more I itch to destroy the man who made her doubt herself. “No. Absolutely not. You deserve more than the kind of guy you went out with, and I’d die on this hill. You’ll find someone who sees you for who you really are.”
Annie completely disregards my thoughtful monologue.
“Ugh. Please, Will!” she asks in an over-the-top beg that makes me have to smother a grin.
“No.”
She props her hand on her hip. “Are you worried you’re going to fall in love with me?”
“Nope, I’m not.”
“Well, then, we don’t have any issues!”
“You’re not listening to me. I have issues because I don’t want any part of this plan. It’s a bad idea to change yourself.” And even more, I don’t want to see any part of Annie change. Not a single thing. I’ve never met anyone like her before—and it would be a damn shame for her to morph into some popular social construct of what a woman should be like on dates. I hate it. If some jackass doesn’t take the time to peel back her layers of nervousness to find out who she really is, he doesn’t deserve to have her when she’s at her most comfortable.
Annie follows me across the room—holding her letter in front of her like she’s gathering signatures for a petition. “I wouldn’t be changing myself. I’d just be getting more comfortable being myself on dates. Plus maybe a little changing here and there as needed.”
“I would rather wax off my eyebrows completely.”
“Rude.”
Without thinking, I place my hands on Annie’s shoulders. The shock of her soft warm skin against my rough palms momentarily sets me off-kilter. A hum of desire pulses through me so strong and sudden that I have to pull my hands back. Further evidence that I cannot be some sort of dating tutor for her. Fantasies are built on that kind of shit.
“I’m not doing it,” I say firmly. Final. End of story.
Annie’s shoulders sink, and I feel bad for letting her down. But still—I won’t be a part of the reason she’s not Annie anymore.